Trace
by Laylinka
Summary: John finds Sherlock asleep on the couch. He covers him with a blanket and gives him a long look. Johnlock. One-shot.


Started Feb: 2014

Finished Feb: 2014

John found Sherlock asleep on the couch. He took a blanket and covered him. He glanced down as his friends face, so calm and serene. He found himself staring and he bent down. Suddenly an idea crept into his mind. He felt compelled to touch him, his face. Those remarkable cheek bones that would only be highlighted when he'd turn his collar up. He flexed one hand at what he was about to do. Just one touch. "Sherlock," he whispered, making sure his friend was asleep. No answer.

He took in a sharp breath as he reached out his hand slowly, fingers softly grazing his cheek. Warm and soft. He turned his hand and stroked his face with the back of his fingers. He glanced at his friends eyes to make sure they were still closed, then traced an eyebrow. His fingers then traced his friends stark cheek bones.

"Don't cut yourself." John gasped and pulled his hand away like it had been burned. "Hello John." John practically fell backwards.

"Shit I thought you were sleeping." John got up hastily.

"Where you hoping to molest me in my sleep?"

"What? For god sakes no," he responded appalled by his friends suggestion. "Sorry I woke you," he apologized and rushed through the door way out of sight.

"You didn't wake me John. Come back here."

"I'll see you in the morning," said John curtly.

"John, I'm sorry about the molestation comment! I was just being facetious! Come back here!" John took a deep breath and flattened himself against the wall. He wanted so badly to go upstairs and forget he had been caught but he knew that would be futile. He also wanted to go back and see what Sherlock wanted. He stepped into the door frame and averted his eyes, his face red his eyes pained.

"Come back over here," Sherlock invited gently. John took a sharp intake of breath and held it and made his way over to his chair.

"No, over here," Sherlock said pointedly.

"I'm fine here thanks."

"Over here John, where you were before."

"What difference does it make?" John asked warily.

"It makes a difference," Sherlock said annoyed.

"Fine," he said and walked up to where Sherlock laid.

"Sit," he said softly. "Talk to me." He sat but still avoided eye contact. There was a long silence. "Don't feel ashamed."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's ok."

"I'm not gay," John insisted. Sherlock laughed.

"Thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"I don't," he bristled.

"Tell me what you're thinking then."

"Why do I have to tell you anything? You're the master of deduction." he asked still annoyed and wanting to go back to bed.

"Tell me something else, surprise me."

"Surprise you?" he asked, Sherlock just smiled.

"And look me in the face. It's off putting when the person you're talking to doesn't make eye contact."

"Oh, am I putting you off ?" John asked incredulously.

"No, but it got you to look at me didn't it?"

"You," he said trying to think of in insult but he smiled instead. John, having been put at a fair amount of ease, thought for a moment. "Sometimes, I think of what an amazing criminal you'd make."

"Really, is that what you're thinking about?"

"I think, I mean I have thought about it before. What's keeping you from going to the dark side, as they say?"

"Why do you ask? Are you worried that one day you'll wake up and be the pawn in some colossal murder mystery game I orchestrated just because I'm bored?"

"Well, you are rather stone cold, dangerous, reckless, massively cunning and just all around Machiavellian."

"Those are alarmingly close to sounding like complements to me, John. Would it thrill you if I used my talents for evil instead of good?"

"No, god no," he said quickly.

"I heard a god yes somewhere in there," he smirked.

"No, no I'm a doctor, I help people. I couldn't, I couldn't do this with you if you started to, to hurt people."

"But you were also a solider too. You could be my soldier and do my dirty work."

"No, I, no , I mean sure I'd want to protect you. But I'd want to protect good people. I couldn't see, I could not-" Sherlock smiled at his friends' struggle to explain.

"Relax. I wouldn't ask you to do that."

"You wouldn't?" asked John. Sherlock stretched his hand out slowly and put his fingers over John's heart.

"No, you have a big heart, John. So big that it would still accommodate someone like me, even if you couldn't assist me anymore." John looked down as if he felt ashamed. "You wonder if I would still need you."

"No, you just made it clear you wouldn't."

"I wouldn't need you John, but I'd still want you."


End file.
